


Twiceborn

by Danko_Kaji



Series: {Her Angel & His Savior} The Road Ahead; Lost In The Winds Of Change [2]
Category: Final Fantasy X, Final Fantasy X & Final Fantasy X-2, Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: Gen, Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1457683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danko_Kaji/pseuds/Danko_Kaji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baralai doesn’t understand why everyone hates her so much. He sees a lonely, little girl, not a monster. Kidfic. Pre-game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Baralai watches the girl who always sits alone by Yunalesca's statue. 

Kids don't want to play with her, because all the adults tend to ignore her. Kids like to pick on her, the only girl who doesn't attend public school, because all the adults call her out for being different. Kids like to throw hurtful words instead of sticks and stones, because all the adults do it, too, throwing around words such as "Al Bhed girl" and "half-breed" - the daughter of a fallen Summoner and Al Bhed woman. 

Baralai doesn't understand. He understands that Al Bhed are bad, because machina are bad, and Al Bhed people use machina like it's not bad, but he doesn't understand why people hate the Al Bhed when the Al Bhed are people, too, who are just different. His parents never taught him to hate, never told him that Al Bhed are ugly or bad, but they have encouraged his love for questions. 

Seeing the girl sit alone underneath a holy statue, surrounded by holy people who wish to pretend she does not exist, Baralai wonders what exactly makes her unholy when she has feelings just like anyone else.

He sees a lonely, little girl, not a monster.

~

"Yuna. I'd like you to study this alphabet. Can you do this for me?"

Yuna nods, holding her mother's memento close to her heart, and Braska departs for his daily meditation. Surveying the temple, she approaches Yunalesca's statue and discovers a boy her age has stolen her favorite spot. He sits cross-legged and straight, eyes trained on the script of a scroll, face so pretty in the lights and shadows of the hanging lanterns that she blushes. Yuna traces the crisscrossing lines of her mother's native language, murmuring the phonetic letters and spelling out a happy memory, before scavenging the courage to sit beside him.

He looks at her, catching the strange symbols faster than Yuna can conceal them out of shame. "Hello. Er, can I see?" Curiosity motivates him to pull the tablet onto his lap, disregarding her timid fussing. "Can you read this? Truly? Will you teach me?" 

Yuna stares, uncertain. Can she trust him in the cruel light of past experiences? 

Kids pulled on her hair, mocking it for growing too long too fast. Kids laughed at her green eye, the cursed eye of her sinful heritage. Kids push her around when the adults aren't looking, and when the adults do catch them they still get away with lighter punishments, and she gets blamed for being the victim. Even though she has the greatest father in the whole wide world, the whole world hates her for what her parents did, and they only did what any two people in love do. Yuna doesn't understand why she lives this way, not when she has never lived to know warmth and kindness from anyone apart from her parents and a handful of her father's few friends.

She becomes more nervous when he leans in close, and he keeps his voice low right as a priest walks by. 

"It's the Al Bhed alphabet, right? I tried to read it in secret, but the Head Priest found out and burned the book Father Braska gave me."

Tiny hands wring on her lap, twisting her skirt, and Yuna dares to share something forbidden, dares to place her tiny hope in an older boy she wants to trust. "...please don't tell anyone. I don't want someone to burn it..."

Praying in Yevon, he smiles. "Cross my heart and hope to die."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Braska gets a young visitor, the famous 'Baralai' that Yuna keeps talking about.

Knock, knock.  


Braska places the hand towel down on the countertop and moves to open the door. They rarely ever get visitors and most of them aren't friendly, yet when he hears Yuna chime in the background, "It's Baralai!" he relaxes. It must be that boy she keeps talking about for the past week. Opening the door, his young visitor greets him with a polite smile and Yevon prayer. Braska recognizes him for his cherubic face and the white hair that peeks below his blue hat, the boy who harbored a fascination towards the Al Bhed.  


"Good afternoon, Baralai. Did you just finish school?"  


"Yes, Father Braska. I came to play with Yuna." He shifts his weight on one foot to look around him, looking for her. "May I come in?"  


"Of course. I was just about to--."  


He rushes inside the moment Braska granted him invitation, ducking beneath the arm that holds the door ajar. Climbing onto the chair next to her, he unfastens his messenger bag from around his shoulder and starts to dig inside of it. "Yuna, guess what we learned in Calligraphy class today?" She leans over his shoulder, curious as if he were about to unwrap a gift.  


"…make lunch." Braska chuckles, amused by his enthusiasm, and closes the door shut, heading back to the kitchenette to check on the sandwiches in his cast iron stove while listening to them chat in the background.  


"We finally started writing cursive! Usually the third years are the first to learn it, but the teacher said cursive will help us draw the actual symbols later. Let me show you the alphabet I wrote."  


"Wow. It's so pretty… I want to write cursive, too."  


"Do you want to try? I can teach you."  


"Really? You'd do that for me?"  


"Of course! Cursive is kind of hard… but it's really fun. I can't wait to draw the letters in Yevon."  


Now they have gone quiet except for the sounds of their utensils scraping the paper and the occasional quiet murmur of concentration. Once the panini sandwiches are toasted to a golden brown, Braska pulls them out with oven mittens and places the tray on the stove to cool down. Washing his hands at the sink now, he spies them sitting together at the dining table. Baralai looks serene, humming the Hymn to the strokes and circles of his writing while Yuna bends over her paper in rigorous concentration, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. When she pulls back to admire her handiwork, she frowns and sighs in disappointment.  


Baralai glances at her, curious. "How'd it go? Can I see?"  


Fearing his judgment, she hugs the paper tight to her chest and shakes her head.  


He looks hurt at her rejection, but he hides it quick behind a pleasant smile. "Are you afraid you did badly? Don't worry. The teacher says that no one's perfect on their first try."  


"What about you?"  


"Huh?"  


"Did you mess up a lot?"  


He blushes in embarrassment, but then tries to laugh it off. "Yeah. I hate the loops. They make my hand hurt."  


Relieved to know she's not alone in her struggles, she beams. "What's your secret? How do you write so good?"  


Pleased that she had asked, he puffs out his chest a bit, as if ready to impart sacred knowledge to her. "Practice! Lots of practice. Whenever I have trouble learning something, Mother always tells me 'repetition is knowledge, and knowledge is power.' …whatever that means. I think she was saying that it pays to be smart."  


Braska had taken to watching their interactions, satisfied to learn Baralai has proven himself to be quite the healthy influence. Earlier he had been worried when Yuna mentioned she made her first friend, wondering what kind of child he was and who his parents were. He doesn't seem like the type to bully Yuna, let alone manipulate her to do things for him or make him feel superior by feeding on her insecurities. Watching how he behaves, though, puts this concerned father's mind at ease. Baralai's simply a precocious child, an aspiring scholar at that, and Braska can see this boy has a bright future ahead of him.  


"You sound so smart. Are you the smartest kid in class?"  


"Um, I don't know about being the smartest…" He blushes at the compliment, humbled. "But I know the teachers like me a lot. They're so nice, they give me candy every time I get the answer right. Oh! That's right. Would you like some? You told me you like chocolate."  


Yuna blushes, enamored by his kindness. "Th-Thank you…"  


"Yuna. Remember: no candy before lunch."  


"Oops. Sorry, daddy."  


"I'm sorry. It's my fault."  


"It's okay. As long as you remember."  


Braska brings the plates over, placing the first two before them.  


She squeals in joy once she sees he made her favorite. "Yay! Lunch! Thanks, daddy."  


"Thank you for the food, Father Braska." Baralai bows his head, praying in Yevon, but does not begin eating, yet, waiting for Braska to finish setting up the table.  


"You don't have to call me Father Braska anymore. You can just say my name without an honorific," he says, coming back with three empty cups tucked under one arm while his free hand carries his own plate.  


"No, I shouldn't! I couldn't. I mean, um… Lord Braska."  


"I'm not a lord, so I don't think it's appropriate."  


"Sir Braska?"  


"Well, that's a start. So, what would you two like to drink?"  


"Apple juice, please." They chime in unison, raising their hands; then they look at each other with wide eyes and twin smiles of mischief. "Jinx!" They point and laugh at each other, arguing who said _jinx_ first and playfully shoving the other.  


"I said it first."  


"No, I did."  


"Did not."  


"Did, too."  


"Did n--ah!" Baralai falls off his chair when it tips following a strong push. 

Yuna jumps off her seat at once, concerned. "Oh, no, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"  


"Children, that's enough horsing around." Braska smiles when he says this, his tone firm. "It's time to eat, so please behave yourself at the table."  


"Yes, Fa-- I mean, Father Braska. Lord Braska? Sorry, Sir Braska."  


They scurry to their respective seats faster than a pair of chocobos, scared of punishment. Braska soon joins them at the table, settling down into his own seat after pouring them juice.  


"So, daddy," Yuna says, after a couple of bites and several minutes of comfortable silence. "Why are you meditating a lot?"  


"Are you saying there's something wrong with meditating every morning?"  


"No, that's not what I--." Yuna's face flushes, feeling guilty, and then she pouts at the sound of his laugh. "You meanie."  


"I was just teasing. That's a very legitimate question to ask, Yuna."  


"What is… liji… tamite…?"  


Braska smiles and sounds out the word slowly, patient. "Legitimate."  


"Yeah. That word." Yuna turns to her companion, since he likes to use big words, too, sometimes. "What does it mean, Baralai?"  


He shrugs, swallowing his mouthful of food. "I don't know. I'm guessing he means it's the right thing to ask."  


"Hm. Close. It means that Yuna is very observant."  


His whole face lights up in recognition. "Oh, I know that word!"  


"Observant?" she says, curious. "What does that one mean?"  


"It means you're really good at seeing things."  


Braska chuckles, delighted by their innocent exchanges, and mellows his joy once he remembers Yuna's initial question. "Yes. Yuna is very observant. She notices things like her mother."  


Yuna beams, proud of the comparison. "You didn't always meditate every morning. What's wrong, daddy?"  


"…well, there's a big important decision that I need to make, but… before I decide to go through with it, I need to think about it a lot."  


"Oh. What's the 'big important decision?' Is it super secret?"  


He cannot bring himself to tell her right away, not now, not when she looks at him with such beautiful innocence it breaks his heart. Baralai's silence gives no room for solace or comfort when his sharp eyes seem to bore straight through his soul. Once the moment passes and he looks away, resuming his sandwich with less enthusiasm, does Braska release the breath had been holding back. Does he know…?  


"When the time is right, I will tell you. I promise."

~

"It's getting late. I have to head home now. Goodnight, S-Sir Braska."  


"Now you're getting the hang of it." Braska smiles, motivating the child to return the smile. Feeling tiny hands clench on his pant leg, he looks down to see Yuna clinging onto him, hiding her pink face. He pats her head and then her back, encouraging her to step forward. "You're not going to say goodbye?"  


Baralai looks nervous, sharing her shyness as he shifts on his feet, waiting.  


Yuna peeks her head out, fiddling with the hem of her blouse, looking down, frowning. "G-Good… night."  


He nods, uttering a quiet 'goodnight,' and gasps when she runs away to her room.  


"Yuna!" Braska calls after her, annoyed by her abrupt departure. Turning back to his guest, Baralai won't tear his eyes away from the ground now, teary-eyed, and he sighs. Now he must tend to a crestfallen eight year old. Kneeling to his eye level, he gives his shoulder a small squeeze, causing him to look up. "She's just shy. It's not that she doesn't like you. You just need to spend more time with her, and then she'll become comfortable around you."  


"…okay."  


"And one more thing."  


"Yes, Sir Braska?"  


"Earlier at the dinner table, I said something about a big important decision…"  


"...w-what about it, Sir Braska?"  


"I'm curious… Did you know what I was talking about?" Braska wants to make sure he knew exactly what Baralai had been thinking about, because he doesn't want him giving Yuna any ideas before he can find the right time to tell her.  


"I think so. It's something that will make Yuna sad, right? I can tell. That's what mother always says when she doesn't want to tell me something that'll hurt my feelings. And when Mother has trouble thinking about something, Father always told her 'it's better not to wait.' I hope that helps…"  


"I… see. Baralai?"  


"Y-Yes?"  


"What about you? What do you think?"  


"What do I think?"  


"Yes. You're always talking about what your teachers said or what your parents said, but what does Baralai say?"  


"Me? Um…" Fiddling with the strap of his bag, Baralai looks down, anxious. "I-I don't get it."  


"What is it that you don't get?"  


"You were talking about the pilgrimage, right? You used to be a Summoner--I mean, you still are, but you're not thinking about doing the pilgrimage, are you? I don't get why you have to do it. Can't you make someone else do it?"  


"But what if no one else can do it?"  


"That's because they don't have Yuna. You love Yuna. The priests say that she's your only family. She's your reason for living, right? Because you have no one else. You're Yuna's only family, too. Think about how sad she'll be if you went off to use the Final Aeon. If Mother wanted to leave for her pilgrimage, that'd make me really sad, too. Please don't do it, Sir Braska. Don't make her be all alone." Anxious by his shocked and speechless expression, Baralai jumps to amend his words. "I'm sorry, I was rude--."  


"No, don't apologize. It's okay. I wasn't… expecting you to be so direct. You have a way with words, don't you?" He pats his head, reassuring him, hiding his turmoil inside from insightful eyes.  


Baralai ducks his head beneath the weight of his hand, confused by the compliment.  


"You are wrong about one thing, though. Yuna won't be all alone. She'll have you."  


"But! But… I-I can't be the only important person in her life. She needs lots of friends and family to be happy. Won't you please stay, Sir Braska?"  


"I can't make any promises. But if I do leave, I'll feel better knowing she's with you. You're her first friend, and right now you're her only friend. Will you protect her when I'm gone?"  


Not trusting his voice while fighting back the angry tears, he bites his lip and nods.  


The small shadow that had been hiding nearby retreats back into the bedroom.


End file.
